


I'm Sorry

by Meg97



Series: Kingdom Hearts Drabble Prompts. [20]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11727072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meg97/pseuds/Meg97
Summary: It hurts ( God it hurts ) but Sora’s shaking, for all he’s done, salty water dripping down Riku’s collarbone – and it’s difficult, impossible, to be mad when he’s so clearly suffering.





	I'm Sorry

**CLAWS**  dig into his skin with more fervour than he’s used to ; and, being honest, he wouldn’t be particularly surprised if crimson spilled through the fabric of his shirt, dying ‘round his stomach, by the time he eventually pulled back from his hold.

Sora’s been prone to panic attacks as of late, fading and regressing into memories of blood, fighting, war—————–  
He’s never really lashed out before, not like this – to the point it stings and feel like his stomach’s been torn from his skin.

Fingers, claws, twitch against his front, buried so deep he can barely see the brunet’s first knuckle - yet his arms remain firm, one at the young Hybrid’s waist, the other buried through chocolate strands.

It hurts ( God it hurts ) but Sora’s shaking, for all he’s done, salty water dripping down Riku’s collarbone – and it’s difficult, impossible, to be mad when he’s so clearly suffering.

Moonlight is only enough to cause cinnamon strands to shadow the shorter’s eyes from view, sky-blue hues dim and dark ; though the silence is the most painful thing of all, shattered and splintered by the threat of choked and hitching sobs.

~~I’m sorry, I’m sorry, God I’m so sorry——-~~

Fingers remove themselves with constant muttered apologies, and before Riku can do so more as offer three notions of affection to his crown, he’s gone —- a stumbling mess while liquid life splatters to the ground, laughing crimson in Riku’s face, his own sustenance.

Sora’s not even wearing socks as he skids across the floor in a rush, abandoning the attic in Riku’s home that’s become his room since the end of the War. There’s the distinct sound of him tripping, a yell, falling flat as he stumbles against the attic’s ladder’s rails.

Gurgling, heaving, as he shudders his way to the bathroom – then all Riku’s able to see, from his spot in his roof, is a black and shaking shadow that retches something awful.  


Inwardly, he notes how he somehow wishes to act the same, given his own wound now so blatantly prickling at his senses, threatening to burn and scald with pain.  
He has never hurt as much as Sora, that much he knows.

And so, he shall not complain.

Whatever bit of life he can give – he’ll do so in a heartbeat.  
Even if it is his last.


End file.
